


Eyes Closed

by deathrayofgay



Category: Voltron: Legenday Defender
Genre: ? - Freeform, Gen, Langst, Lotor hurts lance for his own sexual pleasure and lance doesn't like it, Lotor is a fucking ass, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, but he plays along to punish himself slash feel something, he is sad, keith doesn't know how emotions work, klangst, save lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 20:49:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12176334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathrayofgay/pseuds/deathrayofgay
Summary: Lance and Keith are best friends, the only people that each other can trust, and be themselves with. After a few years of their friendship, Lance realises he's in love. He confesses and Keith rejects him, he doesn't have an interest in men. Keith suggest keeping their distance. Lance proceeds to be depressed, throwing himself at anyone who will have him, mainly in empty one night stands with people he meets at bars or on Grindr. He life turns into a vicious cycle of sex, drugs and depression. He normally doesn’t remember the names of the sleez bags he sleeps with, often indulging himself in the idea that he’s sleeping with Keith, sometimes even calling out Keith’s name (the men never say anything, they just want sex so they don’t care he’s calling out another mans name).The story starts when Lance is sleeping with lotor, an asshole who has a torture kink. Lance only puts up with him for the night because he feels particularly depressed and the pain lotor induces feels like a sort of self flaeggelation in consequence to he’s incessant pining and heartache over Keith, who “obviously doesn’t want” him.Inspired by Halsey's song, "Eyes Closed"





	Eyes Closed

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in the works for a while and I didn't know how to end it be I was determined not to accidentally end it with Keith secretly being in love with lance bc I wanted to write a good non cheesy ending.... But this ending is still pretty cheesy, but at least Keith still didn't change his mind?  
> Also I'm gonna post a happy gay alternative ending to this universe where Keith is gay in denial and lance doesn't hurt himself and everyone's happy.
> 
> ENJOY

Lance was quiet today. He knew that.  
He avoided the suspicious eye contact of his roommate as he padded around their apartment, gathering his makeup, skin care and dental hygiene products from his dresser and shoving them into his overnight bag along with a fresh change of clothes.  
“So where are you going tonight?”  
Lance knew Hunk would only worry more than he does if he told him the whole truth, “I’m meeting up with that guy from Tinder. You know the one.”  
Hunk hums in thought, “The one I caught you smoking with?”  
Lance curses internally as he remembers the incident (and Hunks reaction), “Yeah… I’ll be okay Buddy, don’t worry.”  
“You don’t want me to wait up?”  
Lance shakes his head, still avoiding eye contact, “No, I’ll probably spend the night with him. I might be back early morning though because he’s working tomorrow.”  
Lance knew it was wrong to lie, but he didn’t want his best friend to worry for him anymore. He’d been doing enough of that lately, what with Lance’s incessant depression.  
“Well, I’m just glad you’ve found someone after K-”  
Hunk stops himself from finishing the word, spotting the distraught look on his friend’s face.  
“Go have fun, but be safe and please don’t smoke with him again.”  
Lance nods, plastering his face with a big fake smile, contrasting with the deep emptiness that echoes through him, “Don’t worry, of course I’ll behave.”

******

Lance tries to fight the urge to hide himself as Lotor, Lance’s newest sleaze bag, ties his ankles to the bedposts. Not that he could do much anyway, with his hands already being secured in place above his head. He was stripped head to toe, the bindings around his hands and feet were painful, as one could assume cable ties would be. The gag in his mouth was, in short, offensive; merely a rag wrapped around his head and secured in place with another cable tie. Normally, the second he saw the cable ties, Lance would have been out the front door and home safe with Hunk, but today was different. Today, Lance felt particularly stupid. Today, Lance felt particularly deserving of pain.

Keith had never liked him. Keith would never like him. For Gods’ sakes’, he didn’t even like men. And yet, Lance still felt like he was dying without him. Over the years he had known him, Lance had found a home in Keith. He was the one person who he felt like he could bring down his walls with. The one person who knew about his crippling insecurities and his underlying anxieties. He knew all his little flaws and still stuck around; kept him happy. Inevitably, Lance fell in love with his homestead, and after a while of arguing with himself, he finally plucked up the courage to confess this to him, anxious and hopeful that his feelings would be returned and everything would be great.  
Spoiler: they weren’t, and it wasn’t.

Lotor leaned back after securing the last cable tie, glaring hungrily at Lance like he was a perfectly seared steak. He spares Lance no words, just turns to his right and rooting through his box of instruments beside him. Lance tries not to twitch uncomfortably, especially when his partner reveals a black braided slip knot, dropping it on his naked body before promptly opening his trousers and unsheathing his semi erect member. He slips the noose around Lance’s neck, pulling it snug against his skin and hooking the excess rope over the back of the bed. His rough hands grip Lance’s thighs, pushing at them trying to separate them, causing pain to blossom in his hips. One hand returns to the rope and the other guides his slicked dick to Lance’s ass.

Keith had looked worried, eyes wide with what Lance hoped wasn’t fear, before muttering, “I-I’m sorry Lance. I’m not gay, I can’t return your feelings.”  
Lance felt an icy chill run through his veins, like his blood had frozen inside of him. He couldn’t move, and in any other circumstance Lance would be sure that he had been freeze-rayed.  
Keith continued, “Um, maybe we should keep some distance for a little while…”  
Lance couldn’t even blink. His eyes were burning. Though, he wasn’t sure if that was because he couldn’t blink or because he was dangerously close to sobbing uncontrollably. He just nodded slowly and silently before turning around and leaving without another word. Keith didn’t shout him back. A day past without him checking on him. A week, and still nothing. A month of no concern, no thought to whether Lance was okay or not.  
Lance wasn’t okay.

The satin braid tightens around Lance’s throat, borderline unbearable as his breathing all but cuts out completely. At the same time, Lotor unceremoniously thrusts inside of Lance’s unaroused body, and with the pain comes Lance’s wish that he doesn’t bleed. Lotor’s now free hand moves to beside Lance’s head to support his position over his body. There’s no time to adjust, no safe word to call out; Lotor immediately begins forcing himself deeper inside Lance at a devastating pace. Lance’s eyes tear up as he tries to gasp for breath, but it doesn’t come due to the noose and the gag.

Since that day his chest felt empty. He didn’t leave the house for a fortnight, didn’t even keep up with his beauty routines for a whole week. Hunk was in shock; he’d never knew on his friend to skip even one night of beauty therapy, even when he was inebriated. Eventually Hunk forced him to snap out of it. He started showering again, using his masks, dressing in things other than the one hoodie Keith had let him borrow. Though through this all, Lance was still empty. He forced himself to appear better for the sake of his best friend, for all of his friends. But he barely felt human anymore.

Lance’s ass and lungs are burning. His head is fuzzy and empty. He faintly realises his wrists and ankles are stinging slightly, most likely torn up by the zip ties. He can barely see Lotor’s white hair shaking in effort through the tears in his eyes, can faintly hear his grunts and mumbles of sick, twisted pleasure at Lance’s pain. He sobs softly into the rag in his mouth, wills the tension out of his muscles and waits for it to be over. Though, suddenly he feels something thin and cold pressing underneath the noose around his throat. He’s shocked into reality when he realises it’s a knife.

Lance had made sure to keep up his façade; he smiled regularly, kept up with the Roommate Movie Monday obligations he had with Hunk, he went to work (and kept up the façade there too), even attended the fort-nightly group meet-ups between Hunk, Lance, Pidge, Matt, Shiro, Allura, Coran and Keith. Keith. Lance couldn’t bring himself to speak to Keith or meet his eyes during these days, but nobody blamed him for that. Lance dreaded these days, when his chest felt so empty, because Keith didn’t even try to make an effort with him. Lance had never felt so meaningless or so alone.

Lance meet Lotor’s eyes. The knife presses deeper, and Lance hoped it wasn’t sharp enough to draw blood yet. He doesn’t need a mark that Hunk would see. He could tell from Lotor’s eyes that he was close, but that he was also furious.  
A sound that sounds like a snarl erupts from Lotor’s throat, “Don’t you fucking dare stop struggling,” a psychotic smile crosses his face as he removes the knife, and Lance feels terrified, “The fight is what makes this so fucking hot.”  
Lance nods, a tear streaking down his face. He tenses his body again, tugs at his restraints, squirms in a way to try to escape. He sobs against his gag, thrashes his head from side to side, tries to pull his ass away from Lotor as best he can. Lotor growls in what Lance assumes is some form of sadistic pleasure, somehow intensifying his speed.

Keith doesn’t love him. Never had, never will. Romantically or otherwise. If Keith cared, in any sense, for Lance, he would have expressed that care in the form of worry. Lance normally wouldn’t have been so egotistical in his thoughts, assuming caring for him would result in worry for him, but he didn’t care about how he seemed anymore. So Keith didn’t care about him. Probably never had. That meant everything was a lie; his love for Keith was a lie. Keith himself was a lie. Lance didn’t have a home, didn’t have anywhere to belong. He would have given anything and everything for Keith. All he wanted was to spend his life with him, to belong somewhere with him. Now all wanted was the end.

The pain is so intense, Lance is sure he’s bruised and bleeding all over. He doesn’t remember Lotor finishing; perhaps he blacked out. Lotor takes in a deep breath before pulling out, and the feeling of the lube and cum dripping out of him makes Lance want to crawl inside himself. There are no comforting words, no offering of water, no soft kisses, no enquiries of Lance’s physical status. Lance is glad. He wants to go home and cry. Though, he deserved this. He asked for this.  
The noose is removed from around Lance’s neck, placed back where it came from. The knife from earlier is used to cut the gag and restraints away, and Lotor steps off of the bed, walking towards his bathroom.  
“When I get back from the shower, you had better be out of my house.”  
As soon as the door clicks closed, Lance shakily kicks his feet over the side of the bed, searching the floor for his clothes. He dresses quickly and haphazardly, glad that he chose long clothing items as he spots the cuts all over his body. He uses his weak arms to push himself off of the bed and onto his feet. He wobbles slightly, body weak from the torture it endured. He hobbles out of bedroom and pockets the cash and drugs out of Lotor’s jacket as he slides his sandals onto his feet and walks out of the front door.  
On his way home, Lance stops by the 24-hour rental locker where he stored his overnight bag, pulling it out and returning the key. He pulls out his phone and checks the time; 04:42am. Well, it’s too early to go straight home. He wanders around town aimlessly, ignoring the curious stares of club-goers on their ways home that notice him hobbling weakly. He lights one off the blunts from Lotor, taking a seat on a park bench. He slouches against it tiredly, breathing smoke deep into his lungs before exhaling it.  
With his eyes closed, he feels someone sit next to him. He instinctively pulls his bag against his chest, but keeps his eyes closed and keeps smoking.  
He lets out the smoke with a sigh, “Can’t you find another bench, buddy? It’s not there’s many people out at 5am, my dude.”  
A familiar voice responds, “What are you doing?”  
In his slightly high state, Lance frowns and looks at the guy beside him, forgetting to open his eyes, “Whomst in tarnation…?”  
A hand moves to his shoulder, and through his jacket, Lance vaguely feels a leather glove and his blood runs cold as he hears that too familiar voice utter his name.  
He stills for a moment before flailing backwards, kicking out his arms and legs as he falls off of the bench, his eyes now open to see soft amethyst eyes, gleaming onyx hair and pearl-tinted skin.  
“It’s just me, okay buddy? It’s Keith…”  
Suddenly the ice in Lance’s bones is replaced by a fierce, red hot anger.  
“I know it’s you! You fucking asshole, why else would I run away? The last 6 months have been utter hell, all you’ve done is cause me pain, I’ve been hurting for months and then I guess my body decided enough is enough and I feel absolutely nothing!”  
Keith’s eyes are wide and fearful, his mouth open to speak, but Lance doesn’t give him the chance.  
“Yeah I know I seem fucking fine but I’ve been nothing but empty and alone since I bared my heart to you and what did you have to say? ‘I think we should keep our distance’ you fucking said. You fucking treat me like I’m your everything, you treat me like I mean as much to you as you do to me, and when you break my heart there’s not a fucking peep of concern from you! No ‘How are you doing?’ or ‘I hope you’re okay’ or ‘I miss you’!”  
Lance’s eyes tear up for the second time that morning, and his voice becomes uneven as he sobs his words.  
“I’ve tried so hard to feel something, anything. I’ve tried booze, drugs, sex, pain, even all four at once and I still only feel emptiness. You were my home, Keith. I have nowhere else I belong, no one else who knows me like you do. I’d say no one else who cares for me like you, but I’ve come to realise that you don’t so I guess I can’t,” he remembers the blunt in his hand so he taps off the ash and takes a lungful, “Now I guess I don’t care anymore. I tried so hard to be normal, to seem happy. But fuck that I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m sore and tired and fucking done with you so go away, leave me alone.”  
Keith’s response is the very last thing that Lance expected; he bursts into tears.  
“Lance I’m so so so so so sorry the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you, you’re my best friend! You always have been and I just wanted to give you an opportunity to heal I thought that giving you space would make that easier for you. I know it’s not an excuse but all my past relationships and people I’ve rejected always wanted to never see my again and now I realise you’re not them and I never should have tried to compare you to them. You’re special I more ways than one and we’re best friends so of course it’s different. I’m so sorry that I hurt you, I’m so so sorry.”  
Lance blinks once, twice. He looks away from Keith’s crying face and at his hand still holding the blunt. He takes a hit, holding it in his lungs for probably a few seconds too long.  
“Oh,” Keith looks at him, sobbing having receded to silent tears of anguish, “Oh. Keith, I still love you. I’ll probably always love you. And it will always hurt, to see you dating someone else and to know you won’t love me the same way, but I’ve never wanted space. Never wanted to avoid you or anything. As much as the others mean to me and how much they’ve been there, you’re my best friend. You’re everything to me and I never want to lose you no matter how much it hurts. I only stayed away because I thought you didn’t want me near you for your own reasons. And I only pretended to be okay with it for everyone else’s sake.”  
Keith shakes his head, a tear streaking his cheek, “I’m sorry Lance. I don’t want to lose you either.”  
Tears finally start to form in Lance’s eyes, he drops the weed in his hand and his hands cover his face and he starts sobbing into them. Keith’s arms rush to surround him, and Lance cries harder, his heart aching immensely, his body feels exposed from earlier that morning, but safe in his best friend’s arms. He knows the pain won’t stop, far from it, but he won’t let that get in the way of his home.

**Author's Note:**

> Hum @ raythegay.tumblr.com


End file.
